


Ask Me No Questions, I'll Tell You No Lies

by violetvaria



Series: Stable AU [5]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Friend Wilt Bozer (MacGyver TV 2016), Past Child Abuse, Stable AU, dad!Jack, physical affection, teen!Bozer, teen!Mac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 12:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20815460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvaria/pseuds/violetvaria
Summary: Mac was a good kid, Jack reminded himself. The best, really. Insanely smart, absurdly obedient, sweet-tempered, low-maintenance.Too low-maintenance.Jack should have known that no teenager was that easy to take care of.Hesure hadn’t been in his youth.But he couldn’t seem to uncross his arms as he glared at his kid.“So explain to me why I had to hear from Bozer that you’ve been skipping lunch,” he growled.~~~set in dickgrysvn's Stablehands + Stable Homes AU





	Ask Me No Questions, I'll Tell You No Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stablehands + Stable Homes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171) by [dickgrysvn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickgrysvn/pseuds/dickgrysvn). 

> Thanks, as always, to the gracious and talented dickgrysvn for creating and sharing this AU! It is essential to read her amazing story [**Stablehands + Stable Homes**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171), or, if already read, to re-read.
> 
> This is set after [**Ground Rules**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17594054). It is prior to and references/foreshadows the glorious [**Fire + Ice + Truth**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804858) by slightly_ajar.
> 
> WARNING: implications of past psychological and physical child abuse

Mac was a good kid, Jack reminded himself. The best, really. Insanely smart, absurdly obedient, sweet-tempered, low-maintenance.

Too low-maintenance.

Jack should have known that no teenager was that easy to take care of. _He_ sure hadn’t been in his youth.

But he couldn’t seem to uncross his arms as he glared at his kid.

“So explain to me why I had to hear from Bozer that you’ve been skipping lunch,” he growled.

Mac ducked his head and automatically took a step back. “I’m sorry,” he offered reflexively.

Jack sighed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s start from the beginning and figure this out, okay?”

~~~

“Hey, kiddo, wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked casually as he and Mac were washing the dishes from dinner.

As usual, Mac looked up sharply, as though his soon-to-be dad might be kidding and he had to check for sincerity. Jack kept his expression neutral.

“You finished your homework, right?” he prompted to help the kid out.

Mac nodded quickly.

“All right then. Your turn to pick, okay?”

There was a brief flash of reluctance, and then Mac nodded again and headed for the living room.

Jack was puzzled. Mac generally loved watching movies with his guardian—probably at least partly because of the snacks, Jack admitted wryly as he collected some chips and M&Ms and, in an attempt to be a semi-good example, some carrot sticks. And Mac had never hesitated to suggest a movie before. Even when Jack moaned about the selection—loudly—he never refused the kid’s request, and his fake complaining usually made Mac giggle.

When Jack entered the living room, Mac was already curled up in the massive rocking chair, looking tiny in its expanse.

“You save me a seat?”

Mac wiggled over a bit to give Jack room to flop down. Jack immediately dropped an arm around his almost-son and pulled him closer.

“This okay, buddy? You’re sure you wanna watch something, right?”

Mac nodded quickly. Too quickly. He fiddled with the remote and started the movie without speaking.

Jack sighed. “Hey, pause it for a minute, will ya, kid?”

The room fell into silence. Jack tried to determine how he could bring up Mac’s odd attitude without making the kid more nervous. He was already chewing on his lip, refusing to look up.

Jack slowly lifted his hand and carefully carded his fingers into the soft blond hair, encouraged when Mac leaned slightly into his hand.

“Kiddo?” He kept his voice as light as his touch. “What’d we say our second rule was, huh?”

Mac stiffened. Since formulating their ground rules a week and a half ago, they hadn’t reviewed them. Fortunately, Mac had incredible recall.

“Tell you if I’m sick or hurt,” he recited dutifully.

“Uh-huh…” Jack’s hand dropped from the kid’s hair to his arm, his thumb making soothing circles there. “Wasn’t there something about sharing when we’re worried about stuff?”

Mac flushed. Foolish mistake to forget the addendum to Rule Two. “Y-yeah.”

“Mm-hm.” Jack rocked silently for a while. “Nothing worryin’ you, is there, son?”

Mac shook his head quickly.

“You sure? You seem a little…off.”

Mac looked away. “Sorry.”

“No—” Jack sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that, kid. I just want to make sure you’re happy and healthy and—you know—you have everything you need. Everything’s good with you, right?”

“Yeah.” Mac looked up, a small but genuine smile appearing. “Everything’s good.”

“All right.”

The movie was over by 9:30, and Jack offered to watch one more if it were relatively short, but Mac knew that with the early-morning hours at the stable, his guardian was usually in bed by 10:30, so he refused, saying goodnight and heading for his room.

He’d forgotten that Jack liked for Mac to be the last thing he saw before he went to bed.

When Jack knocked an hour later, Mac jumped up from his desk. “Come in!” he called, hoping Jack hadn’t heard the suddenly higher pitch of his voice.

“Hey, kiddo. Just comin’ to say goodnight. You—” Jack stopped, his gaze landing on the open books on the desk. His brow furrowed. “I thought you finished your homework already.”

After a long three seconds, Mac reminded himself to breathe. “I—I forgot ab-about it. Algebra. Al-Algebra II.” _Shut up!_ he screamed at himself.

“I’m sorry, bud. Didn’t mean to take time away from your work. You almost finished now?”

Mac nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Okay.” Jack stepped further into the room, clearly aiming for a hug. Mac let himself be pulled close. “Well, next time, I’ll give you a chance to check before we watch movies on a school night. Sound good?”

Mac relaxed and returned the hug. “Sounds good.”

“In bed as soon as you’re done, okay? Growing boys need their rest.”

Mac rolled his eyes at the teasing.

“Love you, kiddo.” Jack dropped a kiss on top of the blond head. “Completely, forever, no matter what.”

“Me too, Jack.”

~~~

Jack had forgotten about the homework misstep until Bozer pulled him aside after his riding lesson a couple weeks later.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Jack was stroking Archie’s nose, giving Bozer only a fraction of his attention as the horse nuzzled into his hand.

“Well…it’s probably nothing. I mean, I shouldn’t even bring it up. You know what? Never mind.”

Jack lifted an eyebrow. “Bozer, you got somethin’ to say, just say it.”

“Nah, it’s fine. He said he’s fine. Just forget I said—”

Jack’s hands dropped to his sides, and he wheeled to focus on the babbling teen. “Who, Mac? What’s wrong?” He had heard his kid claim to be _fine_ too many times when he was anything but.

Bozer was backpedaling rapidly. “No, no, nothing’s wrong. You know me, just—just overdramatic. That’s what my mom says. She says I could make squashing a fly sound like—”

“Bozer.” Jack stepped forward until he was very definitely invading Bozer’s space. “What’s wrong with Mac?”

The teen wilted a little. “I—I don’t know that there’s anything _wrong_.”

“Fine. What’s going on that is probably fine but might possibly be making you concerned even though it’s fine?”

Bozer looked away, feeling as though he were betraying his best friend. “Just…Mac didn’t eat lunch. At school, I mean. This week.” When Jack didn’t immediately respond, he rushed on, “But it’s probably no big deal! I mean, I’m sure it’s fine. He said he was fine.”

“And you believed him?” Jack scoffed, but so softly Bozer wasn’t sure the words were meant for him.

“I offered him some of mine, but he—he said he didn’t need anything. I—he—” Bozer broke off, unwilling to put into words all the times over the years his friend had been sent to school with no lunch and no money to buy anything. The MacGyvers didn’t qualify for federally funded free lunch, but as far as Bozer could tell, James hadn’t always remembered that his son would need to eat, which meant Mac had limited options. Bozer’s mother had often sent extra food in his lunch bag without ever mentioning it.

It had gotten better after Mac started working at the stable. He had his own money, and while he seemed loath to spend it on something like school lunches, he would at least sometimes grab a small snack from the vending machine or from the concession area.

And since Mac had come to live with Jack, Bozer had never seen his friend lacking anything he needed. He’d seen the new shoes and clothes, the sturdier backpack, the packed lunches that, true, looked like they were mostly leftovers from the previous night, but that were always more than Mac needed. At first, Mac had been confused by surplus, forcing himself to finish everything, but eventually he’d enjoyed sharing part of a slice of pizza or half of a BLT, extra bacon, with classmates, or he’d take some leftover apple slices or grapes to the mice in the science lab.

Jack didn’t pack a lunch every day, of course. Mac never complained about school lunches—Bozer thought they were generally edible, which was better than some schools—and since living with Jack, Mac always had money designated for lunch, cash Bozer was sure didn’t come from Mac’s own savings.

Jack was frowning, confused. “I’m pretty sure I asked him if he had enough money for lunch.” His frown deepened. “Matter of fact, I’m _sure_ asked him that. Monday. He said he did.”

Bozer shrugged, looking for an exit. “Ah, well, then, I’m sure it’s fine. Just…must not have been hungry. I better get going—”

“Bozer.” Jack speared him with a look that pinned him in place. “Is something going on that I need to know about?”

“Um, like what?”

Jack hated even mentioning the topic in the same sentence as his kid. “Like bullying.”

“What?” Bozer appeared startled enough that Jack felt a shade better, but he pressed forward.

“Is there some jerk taking—”

Bozer was already shaking his head. “Mac would have told you already.”

Jack raised an eyebrow.

“He _probably_ would have. Anyway, I’d know if it were happening, and—and I’d tell y—” He stopped midsentence.

“You’d do whatever Mac asked you to do,” Jack completed dryly. “That’s all right, Boze. It’s what friends are for.”

“I swear that’s not happening, Jack. It’s—it’s not like we carry a bunch of cash around, anyway. We have to go to the office and add it to our school card.”

“Oh, right.” Jack remembered Mac explaining the system, mostly in an effort to distract his guardian from gushing over his adorable freshman-year ID photo when the card had fallen out of his pocket one day. Jack wasn’t sure why the school didn’t update the photos every year, but he thought fourteen-year-old Mac was almost as cute as his current sixteen-year-old Mac. “So that Donnie kid leaving y’all alone?”

Bozer’s eyes widened, wondering what his friend had said. “He’s—it’s fine.”

Jack narrowed his eyes.

“Really!” Bozer squeaked. “There are jerks everywhere, right? It—it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mm-hm,” Jack hummed skeptically, but he decided to let it go. “Well, if it _does_ start to mean something, even a little bit, you know what to do?”

Bozer rolled his eyes, looking so much like an exasperated Mac that for a second Jack wondered if all teenagers took lessons in snark. “We’ve had the assemblies, Jack. We tell a teacher or another adult.”

“Fine. You just remember that. And…maybe remind Mac sometime, all right?” Jack planned to do so himself, but that conversation needed to wait until they dealt with the other issues first.

“Uh, okay.” Bozer fidgeted.

Jack lowered his voice. “Hey, you did good telling me, okay? I’ll talk to Mac. You head on home. I’ll see you next time, all right?”

Bozer shuffled uncertainly from one foot to the other. “Um…he’s not in trouble, right? I mean, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right, kid.” Jack dredged up a smile. “Don’t worry. Go on home.”

Jack realized his mistake when he saw Bozer hunched over his phone on his way out the door. Jack turned and headed for Mac, who was mucking out a stall, just as the teen’s phone chimed. Mac automatically pulled it out of his pocket, shoulders tensing as he read the message. His gaze darted up at Jack’s approach.

“So explain to me why I had to hear from Bozer that you’ve been skipping lunch,” he growled.

Mac ducked his head and automatically took a step back. “I’m sorry,” he offered reflexively.

Jack sighed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s start from the beginning and figure this out, okay?”

Mac didn’t respond other than to tighten his grip on the five-pronged pitchfork.

“All right. I’ll start. You haven’t been eating lunch this week, have you?”

After an agonizing ten seconds, Mac shook his head. “No—no, sir.”

Jack groaned, attempting to relax his posture and unclench his fists. “Okay. Can you tell me why you didn’t eat?”

Mac shrugged helplessly, as though the reason were too complex to put into words.

“Did you not like the food in the cafeteria? Oh, sh—crap, are you allergic to something I didn’t know about? Did you get food poisoning there?”

At the increasingly panicked tone, Mac waved his hands. “Jack! I—I’m not allergic.”

Jack studied him for a long moment. “That’s good,” he said finally. “And I’m sorry I didn’t pack you a lunch this week. Is that the problem? Cafeteria lunches not too good?”

Yes, Jack knew that a sixteen-year-old was technically capable of preparing his own lunch. But Mac was not just any teenager. He’d only recently recognized that he could pour himself a mug of coffee without asking first. Taking food without it being explicitly offered was completely beyond him.

Plus, Jack found a curious amount of satisfaction in making something with his own hands to benefit his son—his son in all but name, and soon, his son legally too. Granted, he mostly just pulled things out of the fridge and tossed them into a lunch bag, but he believed it was the thought that counted. He knew Mac’s favorite sandwiches if they didn’t have any leftover entrees, his mysterious aversion to peanut-butter-and-jelly. Jack knew his favorite kinds of cookies and chips, his favorite fruits and vegetables, his favorite nuts and jerky. And sometimes, when he was feeling especially grateful for this wonderchild in his life—which was most days—he’d jot a sappy little note or one of his growing collection of dad-jokes on a napkin and throw that in too.

Mac never commented—not to Jack’s face. But lately, when Jack opened the insulated bag, he’d find the napkin neatly folded into an origami crane or frog or dragon. Without a word, he took these to his bedroom to decorate the top of his dresser.

“You don’t wanna eat school lunches?” Jack prompted more gently.

Mac shrugged again, another unreadable gesture.

“Okay, kid, you’ve gotta talk to me here. You’ve been eatin’ fine at home, so I know you’re not sick, so either you lied to my face when I asked if you had money for lunch, or you’re on some kinda weird daytime hunger strike. I don’t really like either of those options, son.”

“I’m sorry,” Mac whispered again, looking down at his feet and biting his lip.

“Mac!” Jack tried to tamp down his frustration when the kid flinched. “Come on, just tell me what’s goin’ on.”

The teen shuffled his feet, not looking up when he offered quietly, “I—I’ll do better.”

It was fortunate for Jack’s patience—or increasing lack thereof—that they both heard a car door slam. Jack checked his watch and tried not to swear at the interruption.

“We’ll pick this up later. You finish the stalls and then straight to the office to do your homework, got it?”

Mac nodded quickly, looking far too relieved at the brief respite for Jack’s liking.

Jack took a calming breath and pasted a smile on his face for his next student. “Hey, Twinkle-Toes!”

Mac watched out of the corner of his eye as Jack boisterously greeted Cassi and her mother. The eight-year-old enthusiastically gave Jack a high-five, but her searching eyes soon landed on Mac.

“Mac!” she squealed, prevented from running over to her favorite teen only because of her mother’s grip on her hand.

“Cassiopeia,” Helen scolded lightly. “You know we don’t run inside.”

“’Kay.”

Jack smiled down at her, calling to his own kid at the same time. “Hey, Mac! You wanna say hi to Cassi, right? C’mon over here.”

Mac approached his guardian more cautiously than usual, but he was all smiles for the little girl who adored him. He knelt so she could give him a hug, babbling excitedly in his ear.

“You’re going to be a sister?”

Jack whipped his head around at the exclamation, spinning almost immediately to look at Helen.

She blushed. “We’re not really telling anyone yet,” she demurred. “At least, Matthias and I aren’t.” She shot her daughter a fondly exasperated look.

Jack laughed. “Well, congratulations. Always room for more sunshine in your life, right?”

Helen was glowing as she agreed.

“’Sides, we won’t tell anyone. This one’s real good at keeping secrets, right, Mac?”

Mac peeked up at the barbed tone, huddling down a little without losing his grip on Cassi. He forced his voice to remain steady as he told her, “You’re gonna be a great sister, Cassi.”

The girl beamed, finally pulling away from her teenaged friend, her glasses slipping off her nose as she did so. Mac righted them for her, frowning at their design as he did so.

“You ready to ride, munchkin?”

Cassi giggled at Jack and grabbed Mac’s hand. “Mac help.”

Mac stood but kept his head down. After angering his soon-to-be dad, he couldn’t imagine he’d be permitted to do anything fun.

Jack was wavering. He didn’t want to punish the kid—well, ever, to be honest, but especially not without knowing the full story, and he was sure he didn’t have it yet. Plus, it wasn’t fair to Cassi to take away her friend. She already complained about not seeing Mac during the school week; on Saturdays, she loved spending time with him.

“Not—not this ti—” Mac started to say, trying to show Jack that he could follow instructions.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Jack interrupted. “Mac, you’d love to help Cass get tacked up, right?”

Cassi didn’t give Mac a chance to answer, dragging him in the direction of her usual mount.

Helen smiled after them. “He’s so good with her.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid all right. Usually.” Jack couldn’t prevent a frown from forming.

“Everything okay?” Helen asked tentatively.

“Just…teenage drama, probably. You’ve got a while yet ‘fore you need to worry about that, huh?”

Helen cast another affectionate look at her daughter, and somehow Jack found himself saying more than he’d intended.

“He’s just—I mean, he promised he wouldn’t lie to me. Why would he? And not taking care of himself on top of that…” Jack shook his head. “That’s just not gonna fly.”

“Small fibs are not necessarily a bad thing,” Helen soothed, her voice almost hypnotizing in its calming power, and Jack remembered why she was a highly regarded clinical psychologist. “Sometimes children lie to protect themselves, but sometimes they are just testing boundaries, which means he’s feeling safe.”

Jack had never spoken with her about adopting Mac—he wouldn’t have deemed it appropriate—but Helen was perceptive, and she and her husband were at the stable more often than most clients. And now he wanted answers.

“You think that’s what it is?” he asked almost hopefully. Then his face fell. “He sure didn’t _look_ like he felt safe.” Jack was regretting raising his voice.

“Do you want to tell me what he said?” Helen offered quietly.

“It was dumb,” Jack scoffed. “I asked him if he had lunch money, and he said he did, and then I find out he hasn’t been eating this whole week.”

Helen was silent for a few minutes.

“Not like the kid isn’t hungry,” Jack continued, his irritation rising once more. “He’s sixteen. He eats like a horse.” He tipped his head apologetically at Pepper when the mare nickered at him as though taking offense. “More than a horse, in fact.”

Helen chuckled.

“Never seen him turn down a chance to eat, and he ain’t a picky eater.”

“Mm, you’re lucky there.”

“So I gotta figure he didn’t have the cash to pay for lunch. But then why would he say he did? It just doesn’t make sense!”

After another few minutes of tense silence, Helen ventured, “How did you ask him?”

“What?”

“When you asked if he had lunch money. What did you say?”

Jack stared at her blankly. “I don’t know. I just asked if he had enough money for lunch this week.”

“But what were your exact words?”

Jack tried not to be bothered by her insistence. “How should I know? Does it matter?”

“To Mac, it might.”

That stopped Jack in his tracks. “What? What do you mean?”

“Jack, I can’t say for sure. Child psychology isn’t my specialty, and I haven’t spent much time with your son. But some children are very sensitive to the answer they believe they are expected to give.”

“You mean—” Jack frowned in thought. “You mean Mac thought I _wanted_ him to say yes?”

“It’s possible. And in trying to please someone, some kids won’t think about truth or falsehood. They think it is more important to make the other person happy.”

Jack was still frowning. “Or they think they’ll get in trouble for saying the wrong thing.”

“Yes.”

“But why would he think I wanted him to say he had something when he didn’t? That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

After a pause, Helen asked carefully, “Have you noticed how you phrase questions sometimes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you phrase questions in a certain way, that can telegraph a particular desired response.” At Jack’s narrowed eyes, she continued, “For example, when you asked Mac if he wanted to help Cassi.”

“What about it?”

“Do you remember your exact words?”

“No…I said something like _you wanna help Cassi_, didn’t I?”

“Okay, that’s a great example.”

“Huh?”

“When you create a question by adding _right_ or _didn’t I_ to the end of a statement, it sounds like you expect a certain answer.”

Jack’s jaw dropped as he tried to work through this information. “Wait a second. So if I said, ‘You have money for lunch, right?’—”

“It’s possible he would assume you wanted him to agree.”

Jack turned away, kicking at some straw. “I’m an idiot.”

Helen half-smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, all parents are idiots sometimes. And it’s something that can be fixed.”

“Yeah.” Jack was studying Mac intently now as the teen helped Cassi onto her horse. “Yeah, I definitely need to fix this.”

“And, Jack…” Helen paused as if wondering if she were crossing a boundary, but Jack nodded at her to continue. “If you’d like, or if Mac would like, I can recommend a colleague for him to talk to.”

Jack looked away, clearing his throat. “Uh, thanks. I’ll—I’ll mention it to him. When—when—”

“When the time is right,” she completed softly. “That’s fine. Look at you, sweetheart!”

Startled at her change in tone, Jack turned to see Mac leading a beaming Cassi, seated on a patient mare, toward the two adults.

Jack watched his kid thoughtfully as Mac passed him the reins to Cassi’s horse, eyes trained on the ground. This whole mess wasn’t Mac’s fault, Jack realized, but the teen would think it was. Jack was the one who’d backed him into a corner. And he should have _noticed_ something was wrong when Mac had agreed more eagerly than usual to an after-school snack. He’d passed it off as the teenage metabolism acting up, but Jack knew better than to assume anything about any change to Mac’s routine. At least, he _had_ known better. He cursed his own stupidity.

“Mac?” He spoke as gently as he could. “You okay to finish the stalls?”

Mac nodded quickly, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to return to his job.

“Kid.” Jack didn’t dare touch him, not right now, but Mac stopped at the address. “Do you actually have any homework?”

Mac turned back, appearing surprised at the question. “N-no, but—but there’s a test Monday. I could study for that.”

“All right. You can do that if you want. Or if you’d rather keep working until I’m done, that’s okay too. Maybe give Pepper a little exercise.”

Mac’s eyes widened fractionally. Working with Pepper was one of his favorite duties, and Jack knew it. Why would his guardian be rewarding his terrible behavior?

“Your choice, bud. Anything you decide is fine. I’ll talk to you later, all right?”

“S-sure.”

~~~

Between Cassi, a group class, and one more individual lesson, Jack didn’t have a chance to check in with Mac until they were ready to close up for the evening. Mac had cleaned the stalls even more methodically than usual, exercised Pepper for the minimum amount of time he thought she would tolerate, and then combined studying for his science test with cleaning and oiling some of the saddles hanging in the tack room. Jack winced at the thought of the kid touching his textbook with oily fingers, but Mac was careful, wiping his hands thoroughly before turning a page.

He rose obediently when Jack called him and began gathering his belongings from the office.

Jack was waiting for him by Pepper’s stall, scratching her ears. When Mac approached, she immediately pulled away from Jack to stretch her head toward her favorite boy.

“I see how it is,” Jack griped, but his expression was soft.

Mac leaned against the mare’s neck as she nuzzled at him.

“Kiddo, I think we’ve gotta talk this out. Okay?”

Mac took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“I know, bud, but I’m still lost over here. What happened?”

Pepper snorted in displeasure when Mac dropped his hands from her forelock to toy with the zipper of his jacket. He quickly reached up to resume petting her. “I—I told you I had lunch money, but—but I didn’t. And I didn’t think I was supposed to—supposed to use my account, and…that’s all. I’m sorry.”

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “And you wouldn’t take anything Bozer offered you because…?”

Mac shrugged. “He needed to eat. And—and I could wait. It…wasn’t a big deal.”

“You not taking care of yourself _is a big deal_, Mac!”

Jack regretted lashing out even before Pepper jerked away from the humans, stomping her hooves in displeasure.

“Sorry,” he muttered, realizing too late he’d apologized to the horse before his kid. “And…son, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Mac nodded tightly, clearly thinking that was the least of what he deserved.

Jack closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay. First thing. You will eat a minimum of three meals a day. Non-negotiable. And snacks are in addition, not a replacement. Understand?”

Mac just blinked at him.

“I won’t go a whole week without making you a lunch to take, and you’re getting money every week to get whatever you want in the cafeteria, no questions asked. You can use your own bank account for anything you want—you don’t need permission—but you’re right that you _shouldn’t_ be using your own money for something you need. It’s _my_ job to make sure you have everything you need.”

“But—” Mac shut his mouth at Jack’s look.

“No buts. Shouldn’t have even been a question before this, and that’s on me. I never, ever want you to go without something you need. Ever. You hear me, kid?” He cut off the anticipated argument. “And just because you _can_ survive without lunch doesn’t mean you _should_. You’re still growing, kiddo. You need all the calories you can get.” Jack didn’t remind the boy that he was still underweight for his height; he didn’t like to think about that.

“Okay,” Mac agreed softly, hearing the unspoken message. At the physical exam mandated by their social worker, one Mac would never have gone to except that the alternative was the adoption process stalling, Dr. Buddhdev had made it quite clear what Mac needed to do to achieve a healthy weight.

“Okay,” Jack echoed, relieved at the promise. Assuming Mac really meant what he said, that is. Which brought up the topic they really needed to discuss…

“Mac?” Jack kept his voice gentle. “You remember what our third rule was?”

Mac hesitated only an instant. “No lying.”

“That’s right.” It was Jack’s turn to hesitate. “Do you know what that means, bud?”

Mac nodded quickly. “Tell the truth.”

“Mm-hm.” Jack thought for a minute. “What’s the truth, bud?” At Mac’s blank look, he elaborated, “I mean, how would you define _truth_?”

Mac blinked and sucked in a quick breath before answering carefully, “The—the correct answer.”

Jack sagged, half turning so the kid wouldn’t see the grief he was sure was on his face. Mac sensed something amiss anyway, fidgeting anxiously behind his guardian.

“Okay,” Jack said as calmly as he could manage. “This was just some miscommunication. That’s all. No big deal. We can take care of this.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“No.” Jack turned back to face the nervous-looking teen. “You don’t need to apologize.” He half-smiled. “Apparently, I don’t ask questions the right way, so this is partly—mostly on me.”

Mac opened his mouth and then seemed to think better of speaking.

Jack sighed. “Kid, the truth is…it’s not…” Jack rubbed the back of his head, frustrated. “I mean—” Why was this so hard? But it wasn’t like he’d ever had to explain an abstract concept to the little genius. People just automatically knew what _truth_ was, right?

Unless they’d been raised to believe that saying the wrong thing—the unpleasant thing—would bring severe consequences.

Mac was still staring, wide-eyed, so Jack tried again. “Bud, you never have to worry about saying the wrong thing. I’ll never get mad if you tell the truth.”

Drat. That hadn’t improved anything. If Jack’s suspicions were correct, Mac had never been in trouble for saying what his f—what James wanted to hear. No wonder his understanding of the word was so messed up.

They stood immobile for a while until Mac’s frozen posture gave Jack an idea.

“Kiddo?” He dropped his voice into a more coaxing cadence, the one he normally only used when Mac was spiraling. “You remember that documentary we watched about glaciers?”

“Huh?”

“Glaciers,” Jack repeated with exaggerated patience to try to annoy the kid. “Big rivers of ice? Ring a bell?”

When Mac rolled his eyes, Jack gave himself a mental pat on the back. “You slept through that.”

“Did not.”

“You were snoring, Jack.”

“Well, maybe it was past my bedtime. Past yours, too, if I remember right.” He raised his eyebrows in a playful challenge.

“You literally fell asleep on top of me. I couldn’t get up.”

“I’d say that’s not a good enough excuse, but you actually make a mighty fine pillow, so I’m gonna let it go.”

Mac smirked, and Jack took the opportunity to ruffle the kid’s hair, pleased when Mac didn’t pull away.

“Since you were asleep the whole time, why are you even thinking about glaciers?”

“I wasn’t asleep the _whole_ time, smartypants. I remember them talking about how the creases in glaciers are dangerous. You remember that?”

“Crevasses,” Mac corrected. “Um, yeah. Because—because they can open up unexpectedly and be fifty or sixty meters deep.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to fall into one of those bad boys, right? I mean—” Jack stopped, unable to take it back, cursing his habitual phrasing.

But Mac was nodding, not seeming to notice. “It’s a huge danger if you’re climbing.”

“Uh-huh. Do you think glaciers are bad?”

Mac’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. “What?”

“You just said they’re dangerous. So they’re—I mean, what do you think about them?”

Mac tilted his head to the side, confused. “They—they’re not bad, Jack.”

“No?”

“They—they’re an important source of freshwater. And—”

“Go ahead, kid.”

“Over time, glaciers…change the landscape. Carve—carve basins and mountains.”

“Hm. Sounds pretty good.”

“They can be,” Mac agreed cautiously, unsure of Jack’s point.

Jack hummed quietly. “I think maybe the truth is like a glacier. Not good or bad, or maybe both good _and_ bad. Just…exists.”

Mac looked away.

Jack took a step closer, lowering his voice. “Son, I’m not mad. I’m not upset, okay? But you need to understand this. _Truth_ isn’t the answer that you think will make me happy. It’s what actually exists.”

“I—” Mac was shaking his head slightly. “I don’t—”

“Don’t what, kiddo?”

Mac swallowed hard. “I don’t _mean_ to lie to you.”

“I know, bud. I kinda made it hard for you to say anything else, didn’t I?” Jack smacked his forehead. “There I go again. Backin’ you into a corner. Henrietta pointed that out to me.”

“Who?”

“You know, Cassi’s mom. While you were off frolicking with your little friend.”

Mac huffed a little, which Jack counted as a win. “We weren’t _frolicking_. And it’s _Helen_.”

“Right, right. Point is, if you don’t agree with me, or if I say something wrong, you can tell me. Righ—you see how that works?”

Mac frowned at the ground for a while. “You said her name wrong on purpose.”

“Maybe.”

Mac grunted in response.

“But I’m serious, bud. Maybe we won’t get it perfect every time—maybe we need to keep practicing. But that means we have to _talk_ about stuff. If I ask if you have something and you don’t, it’s _okay to tell me_. I _want_ you to.”

“Or…if I finished my homework?”

Jack blinked. “Is that—Mac, did you really forget about your math homework a couple weeks ago?”

Mac didn’t look up. “No.”

“You just said you’d finished ‘cause you thought—you thought I wanted you to be finished?”

Mac nodded, biting his lip.

“Aw, kid.” Jack groaned, kicking at some loose straw near his boot.

Mac flinched. “Sorry.”

“No. Hey. Look at me. You’re not in trouble. You didn’t break the rule ‘cause you didn’t—well, you were doin’ your best.” Jack waited until the blue eyes traveled up to meet his. “I’m mad at me, not at you.” He kept talking over Mac’s protesting squeak. “I should’ve made sure we were on the same page from the get-go. Talked about what the rules mean and all.”

“I—know,” Mac murmured. “Just…sometimes hard to remember. When you ask me a question. I’m sorry.”

Jack pretended to scowl. “Maybe our next rule oughtta be about not apologizin’ for things that aren’t your fault.”

“It is my f—”

“Nope. Nobody’s fault. Whose fault is it that there are glaciers, huh? Nobody’s.”

Brow furrowed, Mac offered, “They’re formed from compressed snow—”

“And nobody blames Frosty the Snowman for ‘em, righ—er, nobody does.”

A faint smile appeared on Mac’s face. “Well, since he’s a fictional character…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack flapped a hand. “Point is, we’re doin’ our best. And you never have to apologize for that. Okay?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Mac nodded.

“You can _always_ tell me what you’re thinking, kid. No matter what it is. Whether I like it or not. Got it?”

Mac cleared his throat. “Got it.”

“Good.” Jack slung an arm around the teen. “Hey, I ever tell you about the time I was Frosty the Snowman in my third-grade play?”

Mac grinned and shook his head.

Jack just looked at him.

“I mean…” Mac ducked his head again. “I mean, yes, you have. But—”

“But you thought I wanted to tell it again.”

“N—well, yeah. But I wanted to hear it again too.”

Jack studied him for a moment and decided that Mac was telling the truth. “All right,” he said softly, guiding his kid toward the exit. “Did you just ask me for a bedtime story?”

Mac shot him an annoyed look, and Jack chuckled and mussed his hair.

“I don’t mind, kid. We’ll go home, have dinner, and I’ll tuck you in bed all nice and cozy. How’s that sound?” Even while teasing, Jack was proud of himself for the phrasing of the question.

“You don’t need to tuck me in.”

“Well, maybe I want to. That means I get to, right?”

Jack stopped walking to look at his kid, and Mac recognized this as a test. No, not a test. Not with Jack. Just practice.

“Too bad,” Mac tried, relaxing when Jack’s smile didn’t falter. “No tucking-in of the teenager.”

Jack squeezed his shoulders and resumed their trek toward the truck. “Man, just take away all my fun,” he mock-grumbled. “Next thing I know, you’ll be slamming doors and getting in fights at school and doing drugs.”

Mac laughed out loud. “You went from _no bedtime story_ to _drugs_?”

Jack kept his voice serious but couldn’t prevent a smile from spreading across his face. “It’s a slippery slope, son. Like a glacier crease.”

“It’s _crevasse_, and you know it.”

“Don’t do drugs, kid,” Jack continued blithely. “Might seem fun at the time, but trust me, it ain’t worth the hassle.”

“That sounds like a story.”

“Nope. Not one you’re gettin’.”

“Even if I let you tuck me in?”

“Still a no.”

“But—”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“You say that a lot, but then you never do it.”

“Well, you’re not older yet.”

Their amiable bickering trailed off as they got into the truck.

Before turning the ignition, Jack said very softly, “Kiddo? You know—do you know how much I love you?”

“Completely, forever, no matter what.”

“Yeah, but—you know what that _means_?”

Mac was about to say _yes_ when he realized he’d thought he’d known what it meant to tell the truth, and he’d been wrong about that. He shrugged.

“Means you are the most important person—the most important thing in the world. More than the stable, more than the horses, more than anybody. And that is _never_ gonna change. _Nothing_ you ever say to me could change how I feel about you.”

“I—” Mac was glad for the darkness enveloping them as he blushed. “That’s how I feel too, Jack.”

Jack took a moment to relish the feeing before he started the truck, chuckling lightly. “Yeah, you say that now, but someday you’re gonna meet a cute girl and have lots of little baby-Macs—”

Blushing more furiously, Mac tried to object, only to be ignored.

“—and you’ll love your little ones more than you ever thought possible. ‘Cause that’s how it is when you’re a dad.”

Mac’s breath caught as he looked at Jack’s profile, his soon-to-be father intent on the road, expression serene.

“It’ll be all nice and legal soon, but I already know that one’s the truth, son.”

Jack could say that truth wasn’t good or bad, Mac reflected as he settled comfortably back against the passenger seat. But that wasn’t always the case.

Some truths were just good.

**Author's Note:**

> Pepper and Archie are from the incomparable [**Stablehands + Stable Homes**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171) by dickgrysvn.
> 
> Huge thanks to Pigeonsplotinsecrecy for sharing her deeply interesting thoughts on Mac's psychology when it comes to money. I'd like to investigate that further, but this is a small start in that direction.


End file.
